Dust clouds

Breathe,
and dislodge your effortless galaxy,
that flees and clings to menial objects
blushing under their new old disguise.
Be careless and slip, and the clouds explode.
The world splits into gold, grey and drunken
Darkness that lurches and spins under an
already-lowering blanket, a feather drifting,
and hushing, and tucking away time,
as a million grooves and imprints of memories
sleep behind a smudge of a dusty fingertip.